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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24547921">A Wanted Birthday Present</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liza_Taylor/pseuds/Liza_Taylor'>Liza_Taylor</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Birthday, Birthday Presents, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Gen, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:00:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,904</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24547921</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liza_Taylor/pseuds/Liza_Taylor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sylvain never liked his birthday but perhaps a little something special from a close friend could help him change his thoughts regarding his special day.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sylvain Jose Gautier &amp; Bernadetta von Varley, Sylvain Jose Gautier/Bernadetta von Varley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Wanted Birthday Present</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I knew I had to write something for Sylvain's birthday so that's how this fic came to be! It also seems like no matter what, Sylvain's going to angst, no matter what I write, haha.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>                Sylvain was never a fan of his birthday.</p><p>                It meant he was getting older, the day getting closer and closer where he would need to take on the name Margrave Gautier. He didn’t want it, he didn’t want to see all those eyes on him, people relying on him of all people to guide them. He barely could keep himself together, barely able to keep that carefree smile on his face and pretend he was just a guy who took everything at his own pace and didn’t have a care in the world. It was much harder to hold it together now that they were in the midst of a war. Everyone looked to him as being the carefree playboy as always and he was finding that person he was during the academy days harder and harder to pretend to be.</p><p>                Since it was his birthday, today was worse than usual. People kept coming up to him, giving him congratulations and showering him with presents. Stuff he didn’t want or need but he took it anyway, stowing them in the corner of his room to sort through later and throw out the items that would be useless to him.</p><p>                The tea time with the professor was also as painful as everything else, him forcing a smile on his face as Byleth conversed with him. She was kind and caring as always but Sylvain didn’t want it today of all days.</p><p>                After finishing that farce, he returned to his room, ready to just hide out until the day was done. He turned the corner and was surprised to see Bernie waiting there.  She had a small satchel over a shoulder, nothing odd since she usually brought her stories for him to read.</p><p>                “Hey Bernie.” He walked over to her. “What are you doing here?” He eyed the bag. “Don’t tell me you finished another chapter of your novel.” He couldn’t help the easy-going smile, no trace of fakeness in it. Reading Bernie’s works was something he genuinely enjoyed and through those works he got closer to the author who wrote them. He never felt like he had to pretend with Bernie</p><p>                “I was just checking if you were in your room and you didn’t answer and I was just about to leave so I’m glad you showed up when you did so that’s great so I didn’t waste a trip.” Bernie paused and then sighed. “Darn it Bernie, you’re blabbing away again.”</p><p>                “Listen, I’ve told you many times, I don’t mind you talking as much as you do.” He patted her head. One of the things he hated more than his birthday had to be Count Varley. He really did a number on her mentally and although she was slowly unlearning everything he taught her, there was still a long way to go. “Anyway, let’s not be standing out here and stuff.” Sylvain opened his door and gestured for Bernie to go in first.</p><p>                She was as comfortable in his room as her own and after kicking off her shoes, she hopped onto his bed, her satchel in her lap. After closing the door, Sylvain grabbed his desk chair and turned it to her.</p><p>                “Oh crap, I forgot, happy birthday Sylvain!” Bernie wilted slightly, her expression dropping to uncertainty.</p><p>                Sylvain quickly realized he had forgotten to school his expression. He was so relaxed with her that he could speak his mind and she wouldn’t judge him for it. He was able to be himself in a way he couldn’t with anyone else. It was because of that that Bernie got the full brunt of his feelings regarding his birthday.</p><p>                He cleared his throat and rested his hand on the back of his neck as he looked away. “Sorry about that Bernie. I’m honestly not a big fan of my birthday.”</p><p>                “Oh you aren’t?” Bernie’s grip tightened on the strap of her satchel. “How come?”</p><p>                Sylvain shrugged. “It’s never been a good day for me, it always reminds me how I’m a year closer to take over as the margrave. And well, when I become the margrave, people are going to be looking at the open wife position or treating me differently in order to get favors or something.” Although who knew if that would even happen based on the war.</p><p>                “Oh,” she said softly.</p><p>                “You didn’t do anything wrong Bernie since you didn’t know,” he added quickly. Bernie was the type to fester on any wrongdoings she did and Sylvain would feel bad if she ended up taking what he said to heart.</p><p>                “Uh right…”</p><p>                “A….anyway, let’s see that next chapter! I want to know if the princess got out of the castle or not.”</p><p>                “Oh, uh, right!” She reached into her satchel and seemed to be digging around in it. “Crap, I think I forgot to put it in my bag. Sorry Sylvain. I’ll run to my room and get it.” She hopped off his bed and before he could say anything, she was gone.</p><p>                “She’s always really quick when she wants to be.” Sylvain shook his head with a sigh.</p><p>***</p><p>                “Sylvain, we need to talk.”</p><p>                Sylvain turned slowly, the venom in Dorothea’s voice was sending his danger senses on edge. “Uh yes? If I flirted with one of your friends from the opera, I didn’t mean it and I definitely didn’t sleep with any of them.” After suffering through one Dorothea lecture, he made it his business to never have something like that happen again.</p><p>                “Did something happen with Bernie?”</p><p>                “No?”</p><p>                “Are you sure nothing happened?”</p><p>                “I’m sure?” She came back yesterday with the next chapter of her novel and they had a typical afternoon, nothing strange or weird about it.</p><p>                “Uh huh.”</p><p>                “Okay, can you just spill it Dorothea, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”</p><p>                Dorothea sighed and held out what appeared to be a homemade book. The front page was stained and the pages looked bent a bit. “I saw Bernie throwing it out in the trash last night.”</p><p>                Not really sure what Dorothea was getting at, he took the homemade book, his nose wrinkling at the slight smell of garbage on it.</p><p>                “Open it to the first page.”</p><p>                He did so and saw Bernie’s familiar handwriting. <em>“Happy birthday Sylvain, it took me a while to write this but I’m glad I was able to get it done in time for your birthday. I hope you enjoy!”</em></p><p>                Numbly he turned the page and saw it was the beginning of a story.  <em>“Once upon a time there was a prince with the power to charm others…”</em></p><p>                Sylvain gulped, remembering his comments from yesterday, how he hated his birthday and how Bernie had clutched her bag. She had probably wanted to give him this story but couldn’t because of what he said.</p><p>                “Damn it,” he said softly.</p><p>                “I’ll leave you to it then,” said Dorothea.</p><p>                “Thanks by the way,” he said quickly as she turned to walk away.</p><p>                Dorothea gave him a wave. “Make sure you talk to her afterwards.”</p><p>                Of course he was going to do that. First stop, was his room so he could read the story in peace.</p><p>                Like everything Bernie wrote, it was wonderful but even he could see there was more heart and soul put into it than usual. The story was a tale of a prince with the ability to charm anyone he spoke to and he used this ability to make his way through life. One day the prince met a witch with the ability to turn into a bear, the one person he was unable to charm. It alarmed him at first but the prince slowly became friends with the witch and the two had various wacky adventures. The story didn’t really have an ending, instead it stated that the prince and the witch continuing to have adventures for the rest of their lives.</p><p>                Sylvain numbly closed the book and stared at the wall as he tried to process everything. Bernie had written this for him. This was a personal story that she put her everything into to write. What would have happened if Dorothea hadn’t found it? He would have never read this story, that was for sure.</p><p>                He scrambled to his feet and hurried out of the room. Where was she? At this time, there was a chance she was in the dining hall. He raced over and peered over the crowds of people but didn’t catch sight of her purple hair. The greenhouse maybe? No, she wasn’t there either.</p><p>                Her room then.</p><p>                He knocked on her door and sighed in relief as he heard her shuffling around and then open the door. She yelped as he swept her up into a hug.</p><p>                “S…Sylvain!?”</p><p>                “I love it. It’s the best story I’ve ever read Bernie.”</p><p>                “Wha…what are you talking about?”</p><p>                Sylvain let her go and showed her the book.</p><p>                “How did you get that?” she squeaked. “I thought I threw it out.”</p><p>                “Dorothea gave it to me.” He looked at her pained. “I didn’t mean to make you think that I didn’t want this from you.”</p><p>                “But it makes sense that you wouldn’t, it’s okay Sylvain.”</p><p>                He shook his head. “It’s not okay. You spent a lot of time making this for me. I can tell how much heart and soul you put into every word on the page and the relationship between the witch and prince was so well written. I’m more sad that if Dorothea didn’t give it to me, I would have never gotten to read such an amazing story. Not like I don’t enjoy your other works, those are great too but this is…this is special.” He tightened his grip on the book. He wasn’t a sentimental guy but he knew he would keep this handmade book for the rest of his life.</p><p>                “Oh….” She looked at the ground, her fingers playing with the hem of her dress. “T…that’s good,” she stammered.</p><p>                “It’s the best thing ever.” He looked down at the book. “Maybe I could get used to liking my birthday after all…”</p><p>                “Huh?”</p><p>                “I mean if you write more adventures of the prince and the witch for my birthday, it’ll be something I look forward to every year so it’ll make me think of something positive for my birthday. No pressure though.”</p><p>                “I can do that!” she said quickly with a firm nod. “I can write more stories every year, I even have a few ideas already.”</p><p>                “Awesome! Oh wait, maybe not so much since I have to wait a whole year to be able to read them. Darn it, I’m already looking forward to my next birthday.”</p><p>                “Sylvain, you’re exaggerating.”</p><p>                “I’m not.” He hugged her head and rested his head on top of hers. “I’m not at all,” he said softly. He kissed the top of her head before letting her go. “Anyway, I should probably head back to my room, we have a mission in the morning after all.”</p><p>                “Oh, right we do. Uh, I’m glad you liked it Sylvain.”</p><p>                He nodded and bid her good night before heading back to his room, already thinking of the possible directions the story could go. He wanted next year to come sooner! He needed to know what kind of adventures the prince and witch got into. He had to smile at the thought.</p><p>                Maybe birthdays weren’t so bad after all.</p>
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